


Tomalley

by Lagerstatte



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Emetophilia, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 20:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lagerstatte/pseuds/Lagerstatte
Summary: ‘So,’ Ardyn said. His hand moved from cradling Ignis’ chin to brushing his lips, then down to settle flat on his throat. ‘A little birdy told me you’re the designated chef for our dear prince’s travelling party.’





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the kinkmeme prompt: [Any/Ardyn Oral fixation + emetophilia](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/3016.html?thread=2319304#cmt2319304)
> 
> Not beta read, but any concrit is more than welcome!

A hand was cradling his chin. Ignis woke, eyes snapping open as he jerked his head away.  
  
‘There there, it’s only me. No need to be frightened.’  
  
He didn’t have his spectacles on, but with Ardyn crouching in front of him, close enough that he could feel the air movement of his breathing, Ignis didn’t need them. He leant a little further away, tilting his head back so that even sitting on the floor he could look down his nose at Ardyn, who grinned back at him.  
  
Where were the others? Ignis held Ardyn’s gaze for a moment longer, then let himself inspect the room. It was only small – no windows, stairs leading up to the only door, a basement – and empty save for him, Ardyn, and the three figures sitting against the opposite wall.  
  
Ignis couldn’t help but tense at the sight of them. They were positioned the same as he was – arms tied behind their backs, attached to something in the wall, ankles tied together. They all looked awake and alert, but no one said anything, and he couldn’t quite see without his damn spectacles. Gladio gave him a single nod, shrugged his shoulders, and tilted his head at Ardyn’s back. Prompto was grinning nervously. Noct’s expression was more subtle, and harder to define. Ignis tried to summon his weapons, and was not surprised when he failed.  
  
‘I wouldn’t worry about them,’ Ardyn said, and Ignis didn’t let himself react to it, still trying to search out injuries in his friends. It was unlike them to not say anything, but given Gladio’s response they were most probably fine, and merely silent on Ardyn’s orders.  
  
Ardyn’s hand found Ignis’ chin again. His right hand was bare; the other still wore a glove, and Ignis allowed himself recognition of the sinking feeling in his gut. Their positioning – him, separated, facing the others who were together – Ardyn’s attention on him alone, the fact that he was apparently allowed to speak yet the others had been threatened into silence – well. At least it was him and not Noct.  
  
Not bothering to shake Ardyn off again, Ignis put on his best arch voice. ‘Yes?’ he said. ‘Is there something you needed?’  
  
It was probably not the best idea to annoy Ardyn, but appearing in control and unfrightened himself would help to keep Noct and Prompto calm, quiet, and out of whatever Ardyn was planning. Gladio was sensible enough to keep control of himself. Hopefully, anyway.  
  
‘Is that any way to thank your rescuer? You were in a bit of a pickle, so I very graciously decided to swing by and give you a hand. I just wanted to have a chat with you before I let you loose into the wide world again.’  
  
Ignis gave him a hard look and didn’t say anything. He didn’t remember how they’d got to be here, and that story seemed more or less consistent with their previous encounters with Ardyn, save for the fact that they were still tied up and without weapons. He still didn’t trust Ardyn in the slightest.  
  
‘So,’ Ardyn said. His hand moved from cradling Ignis’ chin to brushing his lips, then down to settle flat on his throat. ‘A little birdy told me you’re the designated chef for our dear prince’s travelling party.’  
  
The non-sequitur, and the hand on his throat, hot and dry, threw Ignis, though he didn’t let it show on his face. He kept his eyes on Ardyn, even though behind him he could see Noct shifting, moving his arms restlessly. Best to keep Ardyn’s attention on himself alone, if possible, so long as he remained alert to not revealing any sensitive information.  
  
‘That is correct.’  
  
‘What was the last thing you ate? You did cook that, didn’t you?’ Ardyn’s voice still had that sing-song air, but it was more focused than usual.  
  
It took a second to remember. ‘Tomalley dumplings,’ Ignis said. He could add more, say something banal about how relatively cheap lobster was in these parts, compared to Insomnia, but Ardyn’s thumb was stroking the line of his throat, gentle, like stroking a small bird. Ignis resisted the urge to swallow, or move away. He liked tomalley dumplings, and he’d eaten quite a few of them. He wished he hadn’t.  
  
‘That does sound delicious,’ Ardyn said, pitching his voice low. He sighed. ‘I hear you’re truly skilled in the culinary arts. How I wish I could have had a taste.’  
  
‘They’re available fresh from several establishments in Lestallum,’ Ignis said, eyes half closing without him meaning them to. Just where was this going? He hated not knowing. His heart was racing.  
  
‘Oh, no,’ Ardyn said, his fingers back on Ignis’ lips, leaning in closer still, their faces barely inches apart. ‘But I want yours.’  
  
‘ _What the fuck is your_ –’ Noct’s said, his voice loud and furious and cutting itself off abruptly. Ardyn turned, moving away from Ignis, and Ignis relaxed for a split second before Ardyn’s left hand, the gloved one, grabbed his neck, hard. His fingers squeezed until Ignis’ couldn’t breathe at all.  
  
‘Oh dear,’ Ardyn said. ‘Did you forget what I said earlier?’  
  
Under his grip, Ignis forced himself to stay still. Ardyn was unlikely to kill him now, or even do serious damage. His body still screamed at him as he suffocated, the seconds ticking on, stretching out like hours. He couldn’t breathe. Stay still. The pressure built in his head until it was all he could think about, wiping away every other thought. Panic started to grip him. Stay still, don’t fight. Stay still, don’t panic, stay still–  
  
Ardyn’s hand released its hold, and Ignis gagged, bending forward as much as the rope tying him allowed. Blood was roaring in his ears, pounding behind his eyes. He swallowed painfully, and gasped open-mouthed for air, eyes squeezed shut and watering.  
  
‘So, gentlemen, have we learnt our lesson?’ Ardyn’s voice was back to its cheerful flippancy, Ignis noted, distantly.  
  
No one replied; Ardyn chuckled. ‘Excellent,’ he said, and turned back to Ignis. ‘Now, where were we?’  
  
Ardyn’s fore and middle fingers, slipping into Ignis’ open mouth, tasted of salt and leather, and something metallic. Ignis’ chest was still heaving from his impromptu choking session, and he couldn’t stop himself leaning away until the back of his head hit the wall behind him. His mouth was dry, Ardyn’s fingers rough against his tongue.  
  
Tomalley dumplings were easy to make; it was the scarcity ingredients that meant he rarely enjoyed them. He’d made the dumpling skins in the afternoon whilst Noct and Gladio were out fishing, having returned briefly for lunch and reported lobsters at the fishing spot, promising to grab him some. For the skins: flour, hot water, a little cornstarch and a pinch of salt, mixed together, left to rest an hour, and then rolled out. The filling was, if not more complex, a touch more time consuming, requiring mincing of the gighee meat without a grinder or food processor. He’d spent a good while cutting it as fine as he could, unable to rope in Prompto to help, but by the time he was done and had it in the bowl with the spring onions, salt, sugar, rice wine and various other seasoning sauces, Noct and Gladio were back, bringing with them their promised lobsters.  
  
Prompto had made disgusted noises at the tomalley, green, salty-sweet and utterly delicious, going into the mix, along with a generous helping of the lobster meat. ‘More for me, then,’ Ignis had said, unrepentant, as he pinched the dumpling skins around the filling and loaded them into the steamer.  
  
‘It looks gross but it’s actually pretty good,’ Noct had chimed in. ‘Spec’s favourite. Should’ve seen his face first time I ate lobster in front of him and left it to be thrown out.’  
  
It might be his favourite, but sitting in the basement, Ardyn’s fingers deep in his mouth, brushing the back of his tongue, the dumplings decided to disagree violently with his stomach. Ignis couldn’t help but swallow hard around Ardyn’s fingers. Ardyn made an appreciative noise, the slightest of groans, and it only made Ignis swallow again, reflexively.  
  
This was – Ardyn was definitely trying to make him throw up. A kind of power-play, or something else? Ardyn’s fingers nudged the back of his throat and Ignis gagged, dry heaved, turning his face away. Ardyn only followed him, hooking his thumb under Ignis’ chin to keep his hand in place. ‘Almost there, that’s it,’ he murmured.  
  
The scrape of Ardyn’s blunt fingernails against the back of his throat made his eyes sting with tears. The fingers moved, and Ignis gagged again, swallowing the vomit back down before it hit his mouth. It was only a matter of time before he threw up, and abstractedly he knew he might as well get it over and done with, before Ardyn did any damage to his throat. Something stopped him. He could bite down on Ardyn’s fingers, but as much as he wanted to, he doubted that would end well at all.  
  
Ardyn’s free hand found his shoulder, resting on it, rubbing it soothingly. ‘Don’t be shy,’ he said, barely more than a whisper. ‘Not in front of little old me.’  
  
Ignis shook his head, jerking it to the side without meaning to. Ardyn’s fingers pushed in a little further, his knuckles pressing against Ignis’ front teeth, and he leant in to kiss the corner of Ignis’ lips.  
  
On the other side of the room Prompto made a sound, a squeak that would have been hilarious in any other situation.  
  
It was a dry, chaste kiss, but it still sent a shudder of revulsion through Ignis. His hands formed fists behind him, arms trembling as they strained against the rope. His ankles were tied together and attached to the wall as well, and he twisted as much as he could as Ardyn kissed him again, a little less chaste.  
  
Panic ran through him. He didn’t know how far Ardyn was going to go with this, here in the dark basement, in front of everyone. He could smell Ardyn’s breath, and faint smoke on his clothes, and musky sweat. His jaw ached from holding it open so wide.  
  
His throat tightened, stomach clenching as Ardyn pressed his fingers up into Ignis’ soft palate, pushing them in just that bit further, then down onto the back of his tongue. Another small motion, fingertips rubbing back and forth, pushing deeper again. Ignis gagged, violent. Nausea gripped the back of his throat, all the way down into his stomach. He tried to move his head again, but Ardyn was holding him tight in place, pressed against the wall.  
  
Ignis’ stomach clenched, bucked, and, finally unable to control himself, he threw up. The hot rush of liquid burnt its way up his throat, and Ardyn laughed loudly as he withdrew his hand. The vomit dripped out of Ignis’ nose, scalding the inside, and poured from his mouth onto his lap, soaking into his trousers, splashing onto his shirt as he rocked with the force of his cramping stomach. Chunks of the dumpling came up with the liquid, off-white, lumps of mush in his mouth as he gagged and choked, trying to swallow it down and ending up catching it in his windpipe. He threw up a second time, stomach heaving, coughing, and all through it aware of Ardyn’s hand still pressed on his shoulder.  
  
‘Good boy,’ Ardyn said in his ear, low and indulgent.  
  
The smell of acid, half-digested food, filled Ignis’ nose. His eyes were tight shut, damp, and he twisted uselessly away from Ardyn’s hand as it moved up his shoulder to cradle the back of his head.  
  
‘That wasn’t so hard, was it, now,’ Ardyn said. His smile was evident even without having to look. ‘Took a little bit of time, but we got there in the end, didn’t we?’  
  
Ignis didn’t have the breath to spare the words, even if he knew what to say. He bared his teeth through his panting, cracking open his eyes. Vomit bubbled out of his nose, and he spat at Ardyn, a glob of saliva and vomit. It landed on Ardyn’s scarf, but he ignored it in favour of inspecting the fingers of his gloveless right hand. They were wet with vomit, sticky and viscous.  
  
Ardyn raised his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers, one by one. ‘I was right,’ he said when finished, voice heavy, eyes lidded. He traced Ignis’ lower lip with his forefinger, bringing it back to his mouth to suck on. ‘Delicious.’  
  
He ran his hand through Ignis’ hair, then fished out his glove from a coat pocket, slipping it back on. He stood, turned and walked away.  
  
‘Don’t worry,’ he said over his shoulder, halfway up the stairs. ‘You’ll be able to use your weapons in about an hour or so. Until then you’ll be safe as houses down here!’  
  
The door snapped shut behind him. Ignis stared down at his lap, soaked with vomit, cooling rapidly. His skin prickled. Vomit dripped from his chin, and he wiped it on his shoulder. He realised his spectacles were in his shirt pocket, and they’d been splashed, blotches drying on the lenses. An achingly long moment of silence passed as he looked at his dirty spectacles.  
  
‘You okay, Iggy?’ Prompto’s voice was about as subdued as Ignis had ever heard it. He didn’t reply.  
  
‘Ignis?’ Noct said, quietly.  
  
‘I’m fine,’ Ignis said, too harsh. His throat and nose burnt. He paused and forced his voice calmer. ‘Let’s just wait until we can summon our weapons, then get out of here. I’m fine.’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Noct said. After a while Gladio got onto his knees and started yanking at the rope. Ignis ignored him.  
  
His trousers were sticking to his skin uncomfortably. He imagined the whole room smelt foul, at this point. Swallowing was no use; he couldn’t get the acid taste from his mouth. It tasted nothing at all like tomalley dumplings, but Ignis closed his eyes to mourn the dish anyway. He didn’t think he’d be making it again any time soon.


End file.
